If There Never Was A Ladybug
by julliet15
Summary: Chat Noir is saving Paris alone. For months he has searched for the Ladybug miraculous (and his mother) to no avail. Enter Marinette, a headstrong - and attractive - young woman who is determined to help. Whether he wants it or not.


The fiend in black. The shadowed menace. The dark vigilante. Those were some of the press's favorite names for him, though none of them came close to the name he wanted for himself: Chat Noir. He had been protecting the city of Paris for the last six months - not without struggle, he wouldn't deny that - but every newspaper in print and online agreed that he needed to leave the Akumas to the real authorities. According to them, all he brought with him was bad luck and more destruction. They blamed him for the monsters that would roam through the streets every day, failing to notice that he showed up _after_ that started happening. To be fair, Master Fu had warned him. Without a Ladybug to restore everything with her Lucky Charm, Paris had to deal with the aftermath of every attack while he wiped out the Akuma butterfly with his cataclysm. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Chat Noir squinted at a clock on a nearby bank. He was going to be late. Again. That blogger had been trying to pin him for an interview for weeks, and every time, an Akuma battle or last-minute demand from his father delayed him and he showed up to find her far gone. He didn't have that excuse this time around, since the city was quiet now, laying sleepily in a fog that even his luminescent eyes had difficulty seeing through, and he hadn't heard from his father all day. Chat Noir filed away his father's stern profile from his mind. His superhero persona wasn't supposed to worry about his civilian life. The cold air whistled in his ears and blew his blond bangs back as he vaulted himself from rooftop to rooftop with his baton. Finally, he stopped on a building right by the river when he saw a black-haired woman sitting on a bench. She was fiddling with an audio recorder.

Biting back a grin, he watched her for a moment. He always liked this reporter. Well, reporter being a relative term. She co-authored "The BlogNoir," the only site that gave him positive publicity despite - or perhaps because of - its informal standing. For a blog, he thought it had an amazing amount of accurate coverage: quotes from eyewitnesses, live video recordings of battles, clean shots of him mid-heroism. Chat Noir's tail flicked at the thought. It was nice to have someone out there willing to stroke his ego. Goodness knew he needed it. The noir-bloggers were the only ones that Chat Noir had ever been willing to stick around with and talk to after an Akuma fight. Drove the "serious" reporters crazy. Touching down at last, Chat Noir tried to sneak up on her, but she turned around with a smirk.

"Evening, Mr. Noir," she greeted.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng," he replied, returning his baton to its holder and bowing so low his nose nearly touched the ground.

Marinette smiled teasingly as she swiped through her tablet. "Glad you found time to squeeze me into your schedule." Chat Noir's ears drooped. "Have a seat."

Chat Noir perched on the arm rest opposite her and propped his elbow. Marinette turned on the recorder.

"So, why did you become Chat Noir?" she asked.

His eyes flashed. "To impress the ladies. Like yourself."

He could see her resist an eye roll. "Chat Noir."

Chat Noir grinned. "It started with the first Akuma, Stoneheart. A kid named Ivan got upset about this girl - I know the feeling - and that left him vulnerable to Hawkmoth's influence. Suddenly other Akuma victims were popping up left and right and the police were having a hard time keeping them under control. I knew I had to do something about it…"

Chat Noir continued, leaving out the details about his ring, his Kwami, and Master Fu as he talked about the first time he fought an Akuma. He could tell that Marinette noticed the gaps about his origin story, but he dodged the few attempts she made to address them. Despite this, she looked pleased at the end of their interview.

"Alya is going to be thrilled," she said as she put her things in her satchel. "She's sorry she couldn't come today. One-year anniversary with her boyfriend."

Chat Noir raised his eyebrows. "So I suppose you didn't have a boyfriend to keep you busy too?"

"No, but that is _not_ an invitation for you to become mine."

She knew him too well. Chat Noir chuckled.

"Tell Alya thanks for all the work she's done to try to make me look better," he said.

Her blue eyes softened. "You deserve affirmation every once in a while." She frowned. "People are so ungrateful."

"Don't worry about it, m'lady," Chat Noir replied, swooping in to kiss her hand. "Care for a lift home?"

She watched him spin his baton with his hand, his ring flashing in the lamplight, and shook her head.

"Until next time then," he said.

Extending his baton two stories high, he dangled at the top, checked to see if she was watching, and then shot off with a twirl before landing on a rooftop. His enhanced hearing caught her saying "Show-off" before he propelled himself again. Awaiting him was a full night of possibilities: more research with Master Fu, extra studying for his next exam, an eight-hour sleep for the first time in a week —

A scream pierced the air and his tail shot up straight. He hurried back to the bench where he took his interview, and he found a giant gorilla with Marinette clutched in one fist as it used the other fist to pound his chest. "Let's see who thinks King Kong is a lame villain now!" he roared. Chat Noir rolled his eyes. These Akumas were getting more ridiculous by the day. Once his baton thumped it in the chest, the Akuma turned its snarling face towards him and bellowed, "Chat Noir, hand over your Miraculous!"

"Like hell, fur ball," Chat Noir replied. "Let the lady go."

The Akuma grinned. "She's part of the plan."

Leaping up, the Akuma swatted Chat Noir aside as it bounded towards the Eiffel Tower. Meanwhile, Chat Noir smacked against the concrete and groaned, but the next moment he was chasing after the monster. Chat Noir skidded to a halt at the base of the tower, where the Akuma had already climbed to the top. He glanced at his hand, but Paris didn't need to add 'Destruction of the Eiffel Tower' to their long list of complaints about him. With the way that oversized gorilla was swinging on the needle tip, however, it looked like that might happen anyway. Chat Noir ran up the tower, his claws barely making contact against the metal as he moved higher and higher until he saw Marinette - who was still pushing against the gorilla's grip with all her might. She spotted him.

"The Akuma's in his necklace!" she shouted.

The gorilla kicked, but Chat Noir dodged, weaving through the metal bars of the tower until he crept up behind it. The Akuma sensed him. SLAM! Pinned between the metal and the Akuma's broad back, Chat Noir choked for air as the Akuma rumbled with laughter.

"Still think Chat Noir can save you?" asked the Akuma, presumably addressing Marinette.

A hacking and spitting sound interrupted the Akuma's laughter, and suddenly Chat Noir found the pressure gone and the massive black figure hurtling toward the ground - its screams colliding with Marinette's. Chat Noir threw himself off the tower and landed on the gorilla's back. Halfway down the tower. He hooked his arm around the Akuma's neck and extended his baton. A quarter way left. The baton wedged itself between the gaps in the tower. Almost at the ground. As Chat Noir held onto the baton and the Akuma held onto Chat Noir, the baton curved with a creak and then flung them up. Chat Noir managed to land back on the baton, but the Akuma fell the remaining distance. As it crashed, it released Marinette, who flew in the air for a sickening second before landing on the ground.

"No!" Chat Noir screamed, yanking out the baton and running to the reporter's side.

He pressed his finger to her neck, and her eyes fluttered open. Chat Noir sighed in relief. When he heard the Akuma groaning, his ears perked and he marched to its side. Snatching the necklace, Chat Noir stomped it on the ground so that the pendant split in two, and the black and purple butterfly was swallowed in his cataclysm grasp. He found satisfaction watching the evil insect crumble to gray dust. The so-called King Kong dissolved into a scrawny teenage boy with straight jet-black hair and a T-shirt with a roaring gorilla on it.

"Where am I?" asked the boy.

Normally Chat would kneel down, clap the Akuma victim's shoulder, and explain how Hawk Moth had taken advantage of their emotions but that they were safe now and did they want a hot chocolate? Today, Chat Noir scooped up the dazed reporter and replied brusquely, "Hawk Moth akumatized you." The boy's eyes trailed to Marinette, and he pushed his hair back as his eyes widened.

"Did I do that to her?" asked the boy in a wavering voice.

Chat Noir gripped her tighter and almost shot a snarky reply, but he caught himself.

"It's not your fault," he said in a softer tone. "Do you need an escort home?"

The boy shook his head. "Go take care of her."

Chat Noir didn't need to be told twice; he shot into the late night sky with Marinette cradled against his breast.

* * *

When Marinette opened her eyes, she discovered she was in a room alone. The room had dark brown beams and white walls with a strip of pink wallpaper with painted flowers at the top. At first she thought she was on a bed, but her low perspective made her realize she was lying on a thick white mat. She touched a bandage on her slightly throbbing forehead. Sitting up, Marinette noticed potted green plants, a small gong, and ink paintings hanging on the wall in unrolled scrolls. Her eyes kept wandering until they landed on a desk and bulletin board, which was plastered with newspaper clippings, yellow post-its, photographs, and red strings connecting them all.

Half of the board was covered with articles about ancient artifacts, Chinese legends, old jewelry, and, weirdly, ladybugs. At the center was a fuzzy black-and-white picture of a pair of spotted earrings. A photograph at the center of the other half of the board made Marinette approach; it featured a blond woman with a sharp pointed chin, narrow nose, and almond-shaped green eyes as she stood in front of a field on a cloudy day. Marinette was about to touch the photo when someone cleared their throat. She whipped around to see Chat Noir. He had pulled his face into an uncharacteristic frown, crossed his arms, and glared at her with his unsettling feline eyes.

"I see you're awake," he said, "and _snooping_."

Marinette huffed. "Where were you, hm?"

"I was feeding - " Chat Noir stopped himself. "My cat."

"You have a cat? That's ironic."

"Yeah."

Chat Noir brushed past her, took off the picture of the woman, and stuffed it in his pocket. Marinette had a feeling it would be pointless to ask who she was.

"Why am I here?" asked Marinette.

"You took a hit, and I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said.

"Why not take me to a hospital?"

"My friend is an excellent healer. But he doesn't know I'm Chat Noir, so you need to get out of here."

"So this is _his_ place," Marinette said, sliding her finger along the edge of the desk and stopping when she noticed a post-it with a note written in Chinese. She had not grown up bilingual like her mother, but she was able to to decipher a warning about the bathroom plumbing, signed off with the name "Fu." Chat Noir clasped her wrist.

"I rent this room from my friend," he said. He held up a blindfold. "I'll take you home, but you can't know where this place is."

"I already know," said Marinette, shaking free of his grasp. "That note from Fu?" Marinette pointed to the post-it. "It's Mr. Fu, the Chinese healer. I've heard of this place from my mom."

"You speak Chinese?" Chat Noir said with wide eyes.

"I'm half-Chinese, and my mom wanted me to stay in touch with that side of my heritage," she replied. "I'm surprised _you_ can speak it."

"One of the many things my father taught me to create the perfect son."

Chat Noir blinked and stepped back, like he hadn't meant to say that aloud. "Please, don't tell anyone. Don't tell Alya."

"Of course not!" exclaimed Marinette. "Hawk Moth can't know where you are. But I want to help you. That woman. I can help you find her."

Chat Noir clenched his jaw. "I don't need help."

"What about those earrings?" Marinette piped up, realizing she hit the wrong nerve. "You have so much on your plate with the Akumas, I can help you track them down."

"What's in it for you?"

Marinette huffed. "I've been saying nothing but good things about you on my blog when everyone else is trashing you. I love Paris, I want to protect Paris!"

"Sorry," said Chat Noir, lunging forward and wrapping her eyes with the blindfold. She struggled until he pushed a pressure point and she knew no more.

* * *

The next morning, Master Fu was sipping on a cup of coffee. He had fetched it from a bakery, whose high caliber made it worth the trek across town when his bad back would allow it. Their macaroons were to die for. Just when he started nibbling on his first macaroon, someone banged on the door and said in Chinese: "Master Fu, let me in!" Grabbing the cane and huffing, Master Fu waddled to the door, which he opened to allow a black and yellow streak inside. A panting Chat Noir pressed himself against the opposite wall, but a moment later swirl of green magic replaced him with a young man in a fitted black T-shirt and skinny jeans. Plagg gave Adrien a cross look when he emerged from the ring.

"There's a woman following me," Adrien explained in a rush. "One of the noir-bloggers! Keep her off my tail."

Even when he was stressed that boy couldn't resist a pun. Adrien flung himself into the other room and locked the door; almost as soon as he did, another person knocked on the door. When he answered, Master Fu was greeted by the beautiful young woman whom Adrien had brought to him yesterday to heal her from the Akuma-inflicted injuries. She looked around Adrien's age and had curious eyes and bluish black hair in a loose topknot. She tightened her grip on the collar of her trench coat.

"Hello, Mr. Fu," she said. "I'm looking for Ch- um, someone who rents a room from you."

Master Fu scratched his goatee. "Do you have a name?"

"Er - no."

"I'm afraid I can only let friends in to visit my renter. Privacy policy."

"I understand." The woman perked up. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

The last name sounded familiar, beyond the blog that she wrote, but Master Fu couldn't think of why as he shook her hand. The woman worried her bottom lip.

"Listen, if could please give your renter this - " Marinette offered an envelope. "And tell him I really need to talk to him and that there's no need to be so stubborn because I swear all I want to do and all I've been doing is help save the - " Marinette stopped herself. "I mean just, just tell him to call me. Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

As soon as Master Fu shut the door, Adrien poked out with a ruffled head of hair and Plagg floating lazily above his shoulder.

"What did she say?" Adrien asked.

"She said to give you this," answered a smiling Master Fu as he handed Adrien the envelope. "And to stop being stubborn and to call her." At Adrien's put-out expression, Master Fu's grin grew wider. "Does my pupil have a new girlfriend?"

"No!" he replied hotly.

Adrien ripped open the envelope and found a print-out of the bog post about his interview with a selfie of him and Marinette at the top.

"A Fireside _Chat_ with the Midnight Hero," drawled Plagg. "What a stupid title. There's not even a fire."

" _She punned,_ " thought Adrien.

The paper had a little note on the bottom. Master Fu and Plagg looked over his shoulder. The note said the following:

 _Dear Chat Noir,_

 _It took me a lot of phone calls but I think I know woman who can help you find whatever it is you're looking for. Xijia Wong is a historian and jewelry collector in Beijing. Bit of a recluse, but I have her number if you want a hold of her._

 _Let me know,_

 _Marinette_

"I remember her now!" Master Fu cried, startling Adrien. "Her parents own the bakery I love. She saved me from a car that would have run me over, and she spilled some of the macaroons from the bakery. First time I tried them."

"A car almost ran you over? Are you okay?"

"Oh, it was years ago." Master Fu looked at Adrien. "I'll tell you what, if the Ladybug miraculous had not already been lost, I would have given it to her on the spot." Adrien grinned and opened his mouth. "Pun not intended, Adrien."

Adrien snapped his lips shut and pondered for a moment. "So you think she can be trusted?"

"Well, she hasn't given your location away so far, has she?"

* * *

When Marinette answered a call in the middle of making dinner, a male voice said: "You have yourself a deal, Dupain-Cheng. Louvre at midnight?"

She beamed. "Please, call me Marinette."

"Then call me Chat."

* * *

 **The idea behind this AU is that all of the other Miraculouses and kwamis were lost long ago. Wayzz is obviously not around. It wouldn't make sense to have him be there when Chat Noir is struggling as it is and he could use all the help he can get. But of course even without Tikki, Marinette still finds a way to worm into Chat Noir's life and help save the day.**

 **No current plans to continue, since I'm in my last year of college and I have other things to worry about. But who knows, maybe positive feedback will motivate me.**


End file.
